


five times percy leaned on his friends, and the one time he stood alone

by kitty_pryde_bi_pride



Series: 5+1 Works [5]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: 5+1 Things, BAMF Percy Jackson, Dark Percy, Gen, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, The Gods Suck, but we knew that, morally grey behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:28:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28535157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitty_pryde_bi_pride/pseuds/kitty_pryde_bi_pride
Summary: Percy meets his friends on the battlefield and they all know he’s unbeatable, even alone. And he is alone, even with the sea and the earth and the blessing of the Styx and the blood in their veins- he can tell they think he’s gone as mad as Luke.
Series: 5+1 Works [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766371
Comments: 10
Kudos: 234





	five times percy leaned on his friends, and the one time he stood alone

**Author's Note:**

> hope people like this! it's been a while since i posted anything for pjo but i LOVE pjo so here's this :)
> 
> plus percy going against the gods is like my favorite and the world needs more of it

Percy stands with Jason at what might’ve been the end of the world and his hands tremble.

He feels so much – the sea roiling in pain, responding to his inner fury; the earth lying dormant, having just lost its master – but when he looks at his friend, he just feels numb. Jason’s uncertain, afraid to touch him, as frail as he is still after Tartarus and this last fight, but too kind to leave him alone.

“Are you alright?” He murmurs, putting his arm around Percy’s shoulder and slowly lowering them to the ground together.

Percy’s bare hands touch the ground and his fingers dig into the dirt. He’d unmake the world if he could undo the last hour. He’d let Gaea win.

He doesn’t say this though- there’s too many gods lingering on the scene for honesty. “She’s dead,” is what he settles for. He thinks Jason gets the message.

“Leo’s gone, too.”

Percy looks to his friend and frowns. There are unshed tears in both their eyes- Percy thinks heroes shouldn’t cry, not after a battle they’ve survived, and wonders what he could’ve done better. “I don’t think we won.”

“No,” Jason agrees. “I don’t think we did. The gods did, though.”

Percy snorts, his throat burning at the movement, and he shakes his head. “What will you do next?”

“Keep fighting their battles, I suppose. Pretend like this meant something.”

“You think it didn’t?” Percy asks, his tone cautious- wary of those who might be listening, judging their all too mortal saviors.

Jason just stares at the scene around them. The Parthenon is burning. Neither of them have moved to put it out, with either the sea or rain, and it’s clear the gods themselves couldn’t be bothered.

“We were already the children of prophecy,” he says. “This shouldn’t have happened. I think we chose wrong.”

Percy thinks the brief time all seven of them were together on the ship. Some of them – Hazel, Frank, Leo, Piper – were too young to know better. But him and Jason? Annabeth? They were old enough to know these gods are not just. They were old enough to survive- would’ve survived, if things had been a little different.

He thinks to how no gods stepped forward to save Annabeth when she fell, and wonders if they sensed their disillusionment.

If this is a warning, it’s a dangerous one.

“This did mean something,” Percy replies, closing his eyes. He can feel every drop of water for miles- the sea, the ocean, the sweat on his fellow heroes. He digs his fingers into the earth until they bleed, feels his blood mix deep in the soil, can sense miles underground to its now broken core. He inhales and can practically taste the stench of blood in the air, can hear the pulse of every living being left on the battlefield, can see the golden ichor coursing through the veins of the gods. “This proved that we can fight side by side with the gods, and come out stronger.”

He leans his head against Jason and they gather clouds in the sky, summoning a storm. Rain pours down on them and Percy doesn’t feel weak anymore.

\---

“I couldn’t protect her,” Percy confesses darkly to Grover, staring at a burnt shroud. The rest of the crowd has long-dispersed.

Most of the campers they’d been close to died in the Battle of New York. Piper and Jason are on a quest. Hazel, Frank, Nico, and Reyna are back in New Rome. Chiron is too weary to stay.

“It’s not your fault, Perce,” Grover says quietly, not making eye contact.

Percy shakes his head. His fist tightens and he has to consciously stop the earth from shaking in response. “I could’ve stopped it if I’d been paying attention. I’m strong enough.”

“If the gods couldn’t save her, there was nothing you could’ve done-” Grover tries to assuage him, but Percy knows better than to trust false reassurances.

“You don’t know what I can do.” The sky darkens at his cockiness and he grins up at it, all bared teeth and no joy. He wishes they’d throw the first punch. He thinks maybe they already have.

Grover grabs ahold of his arm, then tugs him into a close hug. “I can still tell when you’re upset, Perce. What’s wrong?” Percy stares at his friend incredulously and Grover sighs. “You’re right, that was kind of dumb of me, but you know what I meant. What you’re feeling isn’t normal grief.”

“What happened wasn’t normal,” Percy retorts harshly. His friend flinches and his resolve weakens- he doesn’t want to hurt what’s left of his loved ones. He just also can’t tell them the truth. “I’m sorry, I just- I could’ve saved her. They could’ve saved her. It- they were sending me a warning. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“Fixating on the dead isn’t healthy,” Grover says solemnly, eyes downcast. “She wouldn’t have wanted this for you.”

“Yeah, well,” Percy laughs bitterly and turns away. The earth grabs at him every time he takes a step, longing to be closer to their new master. He’s taken to walking barefoot. “I don’t think she would’ve wanted a lot of what happened. I doubt she liked either prophecy. Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. I should've listened to her, stayed away from the gods altogether.”

“Annabeth told you to abandon the gods?" Grover asks, hesitant, and Percy shakes his head violently. "Perce,” Grover warns, trying again to stop him, but Percy continues.

“It doesn't matter now, does it? Doesn’t mean she didn’t die. Doesn’t mean the gods haven’t fucked us over every time they got the chance.” The mud beneath them is sliding towards his ankles and he lets the cool earth calm him- not yet, it seems to caution. It can’t lose another master so soon.

Grover is too focused on Percy to notice the slow-moving ground beneath them. “No one angry with the gods ever wins,” he reminds his friend. “The combined Titans couldn’t beat them. Gaea, a primordial, couldn’t defeat them. Luke died fighting them.”

“I wouldn’t die, if I challenged them,” Percy says quietly and his old friend freezes, panicked. The sky rumbles and Percy forces himself to laugh- wildly, freely, like he would’ve before his anchor to this world was ripped away.

“Ah, man, don’t joke about things like that,” Grover says nervously, eyeing the still angry sky. “No need to tempt fate.”

Percy grins bitterly and pushes down the empathy link- there’s no need for Grover to get caught up in further conflict. He doesn’t need to know what side his friend would choose, after so much time apart. “Sorry. Won’t happen again.”

\---

Tyson walks with him on the bottom of the ocean floor towards their dad’s palace and Percy keeps his posture relaxed- he’s just visiting what's left of his family, after all, no deeper motive.

“Father’s made all kinds of improvements to the castle since Gaea was defeated,” his brother says enthusiastically. “He’s locked the foundation in deeper to the seabed, cementing our stability, and he’s uncovered a whole new kind of rock under the surface. We’re mining it for new weapons.”

“Weapons for gods?” Percy asks curiously. “Is it that strong?”

Tyson nods. “Oh, yes. And it can only be forged in our deepest caves, with lava taken directly from the center of the earth.”

Percy fights down a surge of protective anger – he felt when they reached that deep, felt them steal from the already aching, unrecovered earth, though he hadn’t known what the interference was then – and smiles brightly instead. “Wow, that’s super cool! Have you been helping with any of that?”

“I’m the General of Father’s army,” Tyson responds proudly. “Of course I’m involved in the new weapon. We have to be careful of how much we touch it, though- it hurts anything not strong enough to handle it. I touched it and it burned my hand.” He rubs his arm, visibly remembering it- it must’ve been something terrible for that visceral of a response.

Percy grabs Tyson, then sends water to wrap around the scar, cooling and healing it. When he’s done, there’s not even a mark left.

Tyson gasps and looks at it excitedly, then pulls Percy into a bear hug. “Even Father couldn’t do that!” He bursts out. “You’ve grown very strong. Thank you.”

“It’s not problem,” Percy replies easily. They step through the pearly gates of Poseidon’s castle and Percy starts feeling out the terrain, paying attention to how the castle fits into the earth and how the sea feels protective over its inhabitants. “Damn, this does look impressive.”

Tyson looks at him confused. “You can’t even see most of our changes yet!”

“Guess I’m just so confident in what you can do,” Percy easily side-steps his question and keeps walking through the halls.

The whole castle is well-reinforced and surrounded in its element, but even the best-made structures can tumble down- look at the last couple hundred years of the Olympian’s influence, after all. It’s strong, but Percy’s willing to bet he’s stronger. Even if he can’t control more of the sea than his father, he can use the ocean floor and direct line to the earth’s core to wreak havoc- and that new weapon sounds like it was made for him to yield.

Poseidon’s always been a critical part of the gods’ offense and defense. Percy’s prepared to destroy him first, when the time comes.

He turns to his brother and high-fives him. “You’ll have to show me when you finish that weapon- I bet it’s gonna look so cool. Show me your room?”

Tyson cheerfully guides him to the housing part of the palace and Percy pushes down his guilt. This has to be done, and he’s resigned to be the one to do it- he’s got nothing left to lose, thanks to the gods.

\---

Percy grabs the half-full bottle out of Thalia’s hands and pours it onto the ground.

“Hey,” she slurs, angry. “That’s a waste of some perfectly good whiskey.”

“And you’re fifteen,” Percy says smugly. “You’re a little young to be drinking that much.”

She glares at him and crosses her arms. “I’m older than you and you know it!”

Percy snorts. “You don’t look it. Don’t tell me Artemis lets the twelve-year-olds on the Hunt drink like that?”

She looks down and some of her defiance melts into repressed pain. “Yeah, well. Special circumstances and all that. Guess there’s some benefit to a dead kid brother.”

Percy’s casual combativeness crumbles alongside her own- he can sense the tears welling in her eyes and he decides not to mention it. “What happened?” He asks quietly- respectfully.

Thalia clenches her fists- she hasn’t stopped trying to mask her grief with rage. Percy knows the feeling far too well. “Apollo dragged him on a quest. Something about a prophecy. Helping him while he’s mortal. Jason didn’t make it back.”

“I’m not surprised he went,” Percy says. “It’s hard to find rest, when you’ve been at war that long.”

She laughs bitterly and shakes her head. “He shouldn’t have been on that quest. Artemis told me- he wasn’t named in it. He wasn’t needed for it. Why couldn’t they leave him be?”

“They knew he’d say yes,” Percy offers, shrugging. “They asked me and I said that I don’t do that kind of thing anymore.”

Thalia whips around to glare at him, practically snarling. Her tears are falling now. “You’re the reason he was on that quest? You’re the reason he died?”

Percy frowns at her- he must’ve gotten scarier sometime recently, because it’s enough to make her falter. “The gods are the reason he died. They shouldn’t have asked him to do that. But Jason wanted all those prophecies to mean something, in the end. He would’ve died on some quest, sooner or later.”

“Sometimes-,” Thalia starts, her voice thick with some pained emotion. “Sometimes, I want to tear apart the whole system. I- I want to leave the Hunters and march up to Olympus and murder my father with my own bare hands.” Percy raises his eyebrows and she lets out a sob. “How dare they take my brother from me and all I get for it is a measly bottle of booze? This isn’t fair, Perce, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it-”

The sky thunders and Percy smiles carefully at her. The ground beneath them is hollow, aching, craving- he pushes down the urge to act. “I’d be wary of who listens, if I were you. Jason wasn’t. I wasn’t.” Her eyes go wide and he hushes her. “Don’t fight the gods unless you’re sure you can win. Are you sure? Are you prepared to lose everyone close to you, whatever's left of your family? Are you absolutely certain you could kill Artemis, when it came down to it?” She hesitates, just for a moment, and he grins knowingly. “Right. I don’t want to lose another friend- don’t make me, okay?”

She looks up at him and sniffs- this is the most broken down he’s ever seen her. It’s a sign of how few of their friends are left, if she’s letting him see her this weak.

“You said Jason said yes because he didn’t remember how to rest,” Thalia says finally, slowly. “But you said no. How- how did you find a way to rest?”

He looks her in the eye carefully and thinks- if he’s ever wanted an ally, now’s his chance. But he won’t drag someone innocent down with him in this crusade, can’t brand someone else as a villain, not until he’s sure he can protect them too. He’s loyal to his friends and his ideals and to the dead, so he’ll save them all in every way he can.

Sea green eyes meet electric blue and when he smiles, it’s all sharp teeth. “Who says I have?”

\---

He and Clarisse fight back-to-back against the latest rush of monsters trying to invade Camp Half-Blood- they’re the only ones of their caliber left here, since everyone who could moved to the Roman camp to try and start their lives in peace.

He and Clarisse are too independent, too angry, too restless to be happy there.

In another life, Percy and Annabeth could’ve thrived in a domestic town in New Rome, but it’s too late for him now.

When it’s over, they sit outside the camp border listlessly. Threats like this barely faze them anymore.

Percy’s back at the camp for the first time in a few months and he’s been happy to catch up with Clarisse- she’s had to rise up in the absence of other camp leadership, and she’s done an admirable job. Even so, he’s not here without an agenda: he’s desperately searching for one reason not to carry out his plan; for something to stop him before he can’t take it back.

“How’s it been, sticking around here so long?” Percy breaks the silence finally. She knocks elbows with him and shrugs.

“Same old, same old. Young kids come in and need guidance. Mr. D’s gone and Chiron’s struggling, after everything that’s been happening, so I’ve been picking up some of that slack.” She grins at him, loose and familiar in a nostalgic way, and Percy’s reminded of camp meetings with Katie and Travis, Lee and Castor, Beckendorf and Silena. Annabeth. It’s just the two of them left now. “You could help out with it all too, if you wanted to come back. Getting sick of being a city-slicker again, Jackson?”

Percy smiles tightly at her. “I don’t know if the camp life is for me, anymore. I don’t think there’s a lot holding me here these days.”

“That’s fair,” Clarisse concedes. “But I see all these new faces in Ares cabin, each and every year, and I feel like I’m making a difference. Showing those suckers how to survive, how to go back home like I never could.”

“There’s no one in my cabin,” Percy says. “Would I really make a difference here?” And if he could, he’ll stay- he’ll stop all his plans, turn back on every heretical idea he’s had in the past year, dive headfirst into whatever will best help his fellow demigods. He and Jason are the same in more ways than one: they’ve played the hero so long that all they know is to be selfless for their people.

It’s just- Percy doesn’t think playing the good demigod will help anyone but the gods; and he hasn’t been loyal to them for a long time.

“Of course, you would,” Clarisse answers. “You’re practically a legend around here, you know- everyone hears about your quests and want to be the next to get a prophecy, to meet the gods.”

Percy feels the ground beneath them and he frowns. He’s in so, so deep, and he’s so, so broken, just like the earth. “I don’t want them to be blindly loyal to the gods, Clarisse.”

“Alright,” she mutters, clearly surprised by his intensity. “Well, you wouldn’t have to do that, I guess- maybe just show them how to have a life outside here? Tell them about how you’ve kept up with your family, how Sally’s doing-”

“My mother’s dead,” Percy interjects. It’s the one secret he’s kept for too a long time and now that he’s let it out, he’s made his decision on the fate of the gods- it feels real. “I went to their apartment after everything was over and a monster got her and Paul. She’s been dead since before we beat the Giants. While I was missing.”

Clarisse freezes, stunned and unsure of what to do. “Jackson, I-”

He stands and brushes off his jeans, then turns to face her. “It’s been good catching up.”

“No, wait, I-”

“I’ll see you again soon, probably,” he smirks and then starts laughing- it’s the first genuine one in a while and it tears out unbidden. He can’t stop it. He starts walking away and his feet sink deeper with each step, the earth swallowing him- protecting him. “May the best side win?”

\---

Percy meets his friends on the battlefield and they all know he’s unbeatable, even alone. And he is alone, even with the sea and the earth and the blessing of the Styx and the blood in their veins- he can tell they think he’s gone as mad as Luke.

He lets them attack, the demigods who’ve been called abruptly out of their retirement like he knew they would be. Frank and Clarisse’s swords bounce off his invulnerable skin, unable to find his weak point. Grover presents a call to arms to the trees, but they can’t breach the ground to come near him. Nico’s skeletal armies crumble to dust as the water in the air erodes them. Hazel sinks into the earth with Piper by her side, trying to sneak up on him, but the earth protects him and traps them, half-buried.

He weathers it all until the gods arrive.

Tyson stands behind their father, face drawn in betrayal and horror, the newly forged weapon in his gloved hand. Percy holds out his arm – senses the earth in it, the metal mined from the ground and the lava it was bathed in – and summons it to him. He hefts the monumental longsword in his hand and even if the rest of the gods don’t know what this is, there’s fear in Poseidon’s eyes- he wonders what his dad would look like if he knew his precious castle has already crumbled, eaten by the ravenous earth.

He surveys the battlefield now that the demigods have fallen back, behind the gods, and sees Thalia standing behind Artemis. She looks conflicted, but too tired to make a stand- he’d known she wouldn’t stand up for him if it came to blows, not after everyone she’s lost in a fight. He thinks she’ll support him once he wins.

Percy closes his eyes, breathes in the stink of the fight, and he can sense everything: the ground beneath their feet, vapor in the sky, the sweat on their skin. The ichor in the veins of the gods.

He opens his eyes, sees them rushing towards him to try and defeat him, and clenches his fists. The ichor bursts and the gods fall- it was a great show of hubris from them, to even believe they could stand a chance against him.

He stares at his friend’s terrified expressions and laughs brightly, one last time. He’d been willing to martyr himself for this cause and he doesn’t quite care what happens now- he’s more than done his part to save the world. It’s up to them.

He sinks deep into the earth, letting it take him, and decides whoever wants to find him can come to him. Until then, he can finally rest.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated :) my tumblr is kittypryde-bipride if anyone's interested
> 
> have a great day!


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